


your bright eyes burn through my exploding heart

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1D Holidaze, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Fic Exchange, Gift Fic, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam moves into a new flat at the recommendation of his best friend-slash-ex, Zayn. It's a pretty nice place - central location, literally situated right above the coffeeshop where Zayn works - but it does have its drawbacks.</p><p>He just can't figure out whether the cute barista, Louis, is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your bright eyes burn through my exploding heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apollothyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollothyme/gifts).



> Written for thesilverwitch for the 2012 1D Holidaze exchange fest. Eternal gratitude to [my best broo](http://yulebeinpayne.tumblr.com) and [the busiest bee](http://boybandhugs.tumblr.com) for holding my hand through this process and making sure the fic doesn't suck. Any remaining mistakes are mine xx
> 
>  
> 
> (also: this is a work of incredible fiction etc etc etc)

Zayn warned him, so Liam pretty much can't blame anyone but himself. He had only experienced Dino's as a café – a good place to study with great sandwiches and decent coffee and weak tea. Maybe a little loud during the lunch rush, but overall a good, respectable place in a part of town that was maybe a little run-down, but still nice.

He'd known that it doubled as a bar at night, that a bunch of really hipster bands and traveling small-time shows came through and performed on weekends, but somehow he hadn't put two and two together and realised that meant that three nights a week, at least, loud music and the idle drunken chatter of people stepping out for a quick smoke would float up through the windows of the upstairs flat.

He works out a pros and cons list on his second week of living in the new place. He's only two blocks from the music store, which saves massively on gas and public transportation, and Dino's has free wifi so he pretty much just steals that and doesn't have to pay for his own. Also, he can nip downstairs for a cuppa or a bite to eat whenever he doesn't feel like fixing something up for himself. Seeing Zayn a lot is really nice too, but Liam almost puts that in the 'con' column because he feels like he should be less enthused about spending even more time with his ex than he already does.

Whatever. They have a great post-relationship relationship.

The cons are the way that everything he owns smells a little bit like smoke now, especially after busy nights at the bar, even when he keeps his windows closed, the way that even though rent is really good, his money seems to keep slipping away because some of the lattes they make downstairs are _really_ good, and the way that Zayn seems to be using his flat as a second closet now for when he finishes his shifts in the café. 

Which could also be a pro, because for all that he feels more like a brother than anything, Liam can appreciate that Zayn is well fit. Also he's also one of Liam's absolute favourite people. But he _does_ tend to leave a mess, and Liam is pretty sure that walking into your flat to find your best-friend-turned-ex-boyfriend-turned-best-friend-again half naked in your loo having just used up the rest of your shampoo because he didn't fancy smelling like coffee grounds on his date is something that by definition should probably be a con. Even _if_ Liam doesn't actually mind it one little bit.

And then there's the matter of Zayn's co-worker. Liam has absolutely no idea which column Louis should fit under.

Louis is gorgeous. He's not as painfully beautiful as Zayn is, but then again, no one ever really comes close Zayn when it comes to looks. He seems funny, too, from what Liam can tell. He's always off laughing with a law student at the counter – Harry, Liam remembers, Harry who is incredibly hipster but not nearly as hipster as his semi-famous DJ boyfriend – when Liam is sat in the corner of Dino's with his computer out, using their wifi and writing songs that he'll set to some of the instruments at the music store and play around with during down time on slow days.

He's – Liam can't decide on a word that describes Louis. He typed "mercurial" down at the bottom of one of his song documents in a fit of inspiration, but now he's pretty dissatisfied with it. It doesn't seem to fit just right.

Louis is... he's a distraction. Liam is glad that he gets struck dumb almost every time he's in a situation where he has to interact with Louis beyond ordering drinks and paying, because Liam has a very set plan for his life (save money working at the shop, go back to school for music management, get a great job for a great company, discover new acts and make their dreams come true with album deals, write at least one chart-topping pop song for a truly deserving artist, maybe sing a little bit himself at karaoke nights here and there) and it does not include going so stupid over a pretty bartender/barista, especially one that he ends up spending literally hours trying to think of words to accurately describe, to put into songs that no one should ever hear.

Liam saves the file with all those little words that don't manage to describe Louis in his porn folder, because it's the last place Niall will think to look when he's searching for another one of Liam's arrangements or new songs to play around with. It's just this embarrassing mishmash of words that fail to describe why Louis intrigues him so much. No one needs to see it. Especially not the good friend and first person Liam wants to officially 'discover' once he has the power to actually discover musical acts.

+++

By the time winter starts really setting in, Liam has worked out this entire routine. He doesn't even need to set an alarm anymore, because he wakes up consistently to the buzz from below when the morning rush goes into Dino's for their first coffees of the day. He dashes across his cold wooden floor to the shower, because although the Dino's fireplace warms up the floor of his flat, it takes a little while before the warmth spreads beyond the wall directly outside his bathroom. After breakfast – cereal and tea in his flat usually, but pastries and something nice and warm from downstairs if he wants to be around people – it's off to the shop, where he spends a lot of hours teaching himself to read music and to play piano and guitar in between customers coming in and looking for beginner guitar books or violins or references to good clarinet teachers in the area, and then he either goes out with old friends from uni or visits with Ruth and her boyfriend or goes to Dino's and sits, computer out, soaking in the atmosphere. And then it's dinner, often with Zayn and his girlfriend, and back to Dino's and then, finally, his bed, where he falls asleep to the shouts of laughter and drunken murmurs from the night crowd down below.

His day is peppered with people. Niall comes into the shop more often than not, talking about the gigs he's played and whether Liam has any new Bieber arrangements that he can try out at the next Dino's open mic night. He also tends to flop down on the couch by Liam when they're both in Dino's at the same time, sprawling out and alternating between texting and searching for funny youtube videos on his phone and reading cooking photoblogs and scouring classifieds for more opportunities to play his music. 

Harry turns out to be an incredibly fascinating person, even if most of that stems from the fact that he's also one of the most genuine, yet hilariously incongruous people Liam has ever met. He spends half of his time kissing his boyfriend in the corner of the room opposite the counter when the bar is fully operational, and half his time jumping on the backs of everyone he comes across, Liam included. When not expressing himself dramatically in very physical ways, Harry studies near-constantly, but Liam has yet to receive any kind of confirmation that he actually attends class. Still, Harry seems to adopt Liam the night after he sits down at Liam's table, thrusts a notebook a him, and says 'quiz me.' Now, they always seem to devolve into heatedly arguing the finer points of copyright law and music piracy the nights that Harry gets one of Dino's wanky craft beers to help him study. For a law student, Harry certainly has a lax view on illegally downloading the works of others. Liam cares too much about the industry to feel comfortable about the whole thing. They can argue the intricacies of the point for hours on end.

There's Zayn, of course. He always has been a constant in Liam's life, and always will be. Liam ends up putting 'Zayn' firmly at the top of the pro side of his ever-evolving pro and con chart of living above Dino's, because when it comes down to it, it's neither of their faults that they've always been too much like brothers to be proper lovers. 

And then there's Louis, who Liam can still hardly talk to and who shoots Liam these incomprehensible looks all the time and who often tucks his head in near Zayn's whenever the two of them are working together, whispering about something or another. He folds so seamlessly into the conversation when Harry and Niall are sitting on the couches by Liam, but doesn't seem to initiate conversations with Liam unless it's just the two of them in the shop. And even then it seems a little halting. Liam doesn't put Louis on the 'cons' list, though, because he does so love to watch Louis work and talk to people, the way his eyebrows are so expressive and really reveal his moods more than Liam thinks he probably means to do. But he doesn't put Louis on the 'pros' list like he does the other guys, either, because, well.

"Does Louis dislike me?" Liam asks Zayn the next time they've picnicking on Liam's living room floor before one of Zayn's night shifts at Dino's. 

Zayn gives Liam a funny look, hand freezing in the middle of spooning more chilli sauce on the top of his kebab. "I don't think so," he says, after studying Liam for a long moment. "Why?"

"He doesn't seem to have much to say to me, is all," Liam says, shrugging, breaking one of his chips in half and inspecting it for a little bit before popping the smaller piece in his mouth. When he looks up, Zayn is still looking at him.

"Are – do you want him to have a lot to say to you?" Zayn asks, peering at Liam as if he thinks that if he looks hard enough, he'll be able to read Liam's mind. Liam hasn't even been able to open his mouth to speak when Zayn smiles triumphantly. "You _do_ ," he says.

"I," Liam says. "I don't know. Maybe?" His instinct is to feel a little guilty about this conversation, even though he knows that Zayn couldn't possibly be hurt by anything like Liam wanting to, um, talk to Louis more. "He's very pretty, isn't he? Not as pretty as you, of course, but."

"But I'm gorgeous," Zayn says, and Liam is pretty sure that kind of claim isn't egotistical on Zayn's part because it's so obviously factual, and his tone reflects this. He smiles wider at Liam. "He is a bit pretty, yeah. Does that explain why you've ordered so many of his daily special concoctions over the past few weeks?

"Okay, but seriously," Liam says, eating the other half of the chip. "I don't know him well enough to know if I like him or not, because we haven't had any proper conversations."

Zayn is quiet for a few more bites, accepting this. When he speaks again, it's to change the subject. "Hey, Perrie is coming by to hear Niall play tonight, d'you think you can entertain her while I'm pulling pints?"

"She was my friend first," Liam reminds him, even though he knows Zayn knows that and figures he was just being polite. "I'd love to get her to myself for a bit of a chat, anyway."

"Yeah, yeah," Zayn says. He sets about finishing his food and then gets up and pulls off his shirt.

"Your Dino's shirt is folded up on top of the washing machine," Liam says, not looking up from his own kebab. "It was stinking up my entire flat."

"Cheers," Zayn says, going off to find it. "I love you, man."

"Love you too," Liam tells him, quietly.

+++

Niall's set goes great. He plays three songs Liam's worked on – two he rearranged, one he wrote – and the rest is straight up covers and stuff Niall worked on himself.

Liam tries to ignore the way that Zayn and Louis seem to be deeply engaged in some kind of serious ongoing conversation between people siding up to the bar looking for microbrews and warm cocktails. And it's not difficult, not precisely, not when Perrie and some of her girlfriends, who Liam vaguely remembers from uni, are gathered around him, reminiscing about embarrassing freshers' week stories and how Liam used to straighten his hair even more frequently than Perrie did during drinking breaks between songs.

Afterward, Niall starts chatting up girls at the bar and when Zayn takes his break during a lull in traffic to the bar, he wedges himself in between Liam and Perrie, one leg crossed over Liam's as he pulls Perrie into his lap to whisper to her, tangling their fingers together and dropping kisses on her cheek almost like punctuation.

Liam feels warm and fuzzy inside, and yeah, he's had one or two hot chocolates with Baileys in them, but he's pretty sure that the feeling is just happiness at two of his best friends being so in love with each other and listening to another friend play some of the music he wrote for him. He vaguely misses Harry, but Harry'd mentioned something about a torts exam and studying at the station while Nick did his weekend show, which is possibly an acceptable reason for being absent.

Whatever the warm feeling is, it lulls Liam into this really cosy sense of security, so when he finishes his mug of hot chocolate-and-Baileys he gets up to take the empty cup back to the bar and possibly keep Louis company. Quietly. From across the counter. 

Louis nods an acknowledgement at Liam. "Another?" he asks, looking at Liam's mug.

"What? Oh, no," Liam says. "I've had enough, thanks." It's not like his drinks have had a _lot_ of alcohol in them – he's not even tipsy, but he doesn't want to be. He's got the start of a fizzing sort of warmth settling in and it's so nice that he doesn't want to change that. But then Louis starts looking at him speculatively and Liam starts to feel a bit embarrassed that he came back to the bar without the intent to get something else, so he says, "Maybe a tea, then."

Louis holds his hand out for the mug, so Liam passes it over, holding it carefully enough that his hands won't have to brush against Louis's when he passes it over. He's managed to string a sentence together (almost) without getting dazzled. He wants to continue on this trend.

"So," he babbles, as Louis washes out the mug in front of him and starts filling it with hot water from one of the coffee machine thingies (Liam can never remember the proper name). "Niall sounded great, didn't he?"

"Always does," Louis agrees. "What kind of tea did you want, then?"

"Oh," Liam says. "I don’t care. Whatever you have handy is fine."

Louis flicks another glance at Liam, then reaches under the counter for a teabag and plops it in the mug. "Is it hard?" he asks, as he pushes the mug across toward Liam and rummages around until he finds a bottle of milk and a sugar shaker that got put away when Dino's transitioned from coffeeshop to bar earlier that day. And god but his hands are so, so lovely, deft and strong and small and sure.

"What?" Liam asks, honestly confused, dragging his eyes away from Louis's hands and up to his face. 

"Watching Zayn and Perrie together," Louis says, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"No?" Liam says. "They're like, my best friends. Why would it be?"

Louis frowns. "Didn't you used to date Zayn?"

Oh. "Like months ago," Liam says, shrugging. And that should be that, but Louis is still looking up at him, his eyebrows all swoopy in a way that Liam can't decide if it means 'confusion' or 'judgement.' "I introduced them to each other, didn't I? I love watching them together."

Being so unable to read Louis is really inconvenient sometimes, because about a million expressions flick across his face, and he licks his lips and purses them for a moment like he's going to say something before he shakes his head slightly and settles on raising an eyebrow and saying, smirk evident deep in his voice, "Watching them together, eh?"

"I - _not like that,_ " Liam says, frowning, and Louis laughs. 

"I mean," he says. "I know that when Zayn goes upstairs all the time, it's not... what it looks like," and he holds up a hand, because Liam is frowning even deeper and straightening up, because that's _ridiculous_ , how could anyone think anything of him and Zayn hanging out - _because he always changes clothes in your flat,_ a very unhelpful part of Liam's mind supplies. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to settle down at Louis's hand, though. Louis is talking again: "...because Zayn is very clear about that, but it's less clear about whether you're. Okay with everything."

"Thanks for asking," Liam says, politely. And then, because he doesn't want there to be any confusion, he takes a deep breath, looks Louis in the (clear, _beautiful_ ) eyes, and says, "Zayn is my absolute best mate and I love him a lot and I want every happiness for him. There is literally nothing else there."

There's so much more he could say, about how he and Zayn have known each other since they were barely even twelve years old, how throughout school Zayn blurred the lines of what Liam understood friendship to be, with hugs and kisses on the cheeks and crawling into Liam's room through his window at three in the morning to talk seriously about their lives and comic books and whether Mrs. Lewis in their English course had real breasts and how hot the shooter on the school football team was. The way that they went to different universities, an hour apart by train, and Liam spent so much time traveling between the two that Zayn's narrow bed felt more like home than his own room a lot of the time.

How, right after graduation, they got a flat together and after a few months of failed dates with pretty dancers (on Liam's part) and a fair bit of heartbreak (on Zayn's, after Zayn broke up with his long-term girlfriend), they got spectacularly drunk and decided that they might as well get married if they were still single at thirty and then, as the night progressed, decided they might as well try it out to see if that kind of thing would work as well in practice as it sounded in theory.

It didn't. They gave it two months. Kissing seemed a natural extension of their friendship – they had been pecking hello and goodbye kisses on each other's cheeks and the corners of each other's mouths for years and years – but it took a full month for them to physically bring their relationship beyond just kissing. The sex was technically good, but it felt strange for Liam to have Zayn's cock in his hand or to see Zayn hovering down between his legs, and after the third time they ended up rolling over halfway through to finish themselves off, back-to-back, they had a very serious discussion about whether or not this was actually a good idea.

Liam could tell Louis about how there were two weeks of extreme awkwardness. Liam had spent as much time out of the flat as he could, and Zayn did the same, until Liam woke up early one morning to sneak out to work and ran into Zayn in the kitchen doing the same and they both, fortunately, ended up laughing and hugging and pledging to change. How, the following month, Liam introduced Zayn to Perrie when she was staying over with them in between job interviews in the city and they fell in love so obviously and so quickly that Liam couldn't help but feel happy for them.

He doesn't, though, because Louis just nods once, curtly, and Liam sips his tea to check the taste and then gives Louis a little awkward half-wave and goes back to sit down with everyone else.

+++

After that, the dam has burst and Liam finds it easier and easier to talk to Louis. They're still just little conversations, mostly about the weather or Liam's most recent song project or the way that Louis is thinking about auditioning for community theatre, mostly all under ten minutes, but still.

Louis still gives Liam strange looks when he thinks Liam isn't looking. Liam still has the document saved in his porn folder that he keeps adding to, nearly every time that Louis works at Dino's, of words that don't quite encapsulate the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson (the document is titled The Enigma That Is Louis Tomlinson). 

Niall still comes into the music shop all the time and has started teaching Liam better guitar technique in exchange for more music. Harry has taken on quizzing Liam, in addition to the other way around, as Liam studies and starts filling out applications to go back to school and start a graduate program in music management. Zayn is still Zayn. He's still Liam's best mate and he still uses Liam's flat as a second closet and now keeps a bottle of his shampoo under the sink at all times, which makes Liam think fondly of back when they still shared an apartment. He and Louis are still often deep in conversation during lulls in traffic in the coffeeshop on days that they both work there at the same time.

Zayn refuses to tell Liam what they talk about. "That's for Louis to say, if he wants to," he tells Liam seriously, once, when he's up in Liam's flat for a quick dinner before his shift starts. "It's his business." He stares Liam down until Liam nods, then smirks. "You seem particularly interested in him," he says. "Have you decided yet whether you fancy him?"

"Oh, hush," Liam says, tossing his dirty serviette at Zayn's quiff. "He's well fit, I guess."

Zayn grins. "He is, isn't he? Those _biceps_."

"I'll remind you that you're dating the most gorgeous girl I know," Liam says, primly, because, well _yeah_. He's noticed Louis's biceps too.

"Fine, keep your secrets," Zayn says. He gets up to put his dish in the sink and lands a smacking kiss on Liam's cheek as he passes him. "Just let me know if you want me to set something up, yeah?"

"I shall not," Liam says, but he smiles gratefully at Zayn just the same.

+++

Liam goes to bed three days before Christmas buzzing with excitement, for the holiday and for the fat flakes of snow spiralling dizzily from the sky and carpeting the streets outside in a white coat that gets beaten down with each car that passes.

When he wakes up, it's dark in his room. His legs and one of his arms are cosy-warm in his nest of blankets, but his other arm and his nose are bitterly cold. When he rolls over to look at his radio alarm clock to check the time, it's off.

Frowning, he leans up to turn on his light. It doesn't turn on, either. Through the slats in his window blinds, there's this pale glow, but when he pushes two of the slats apart to peek out, it's all dark save for the snow swirling down, thicker than ever. If he had to guess, he'd say there's at least twenty centimetres of snow piled up on his window ledge, but it's hard to tell for sure, what with how thick it's coming down and the way that the streetlights are off.

Liam's frown deepens. He scrabbles around for his phone and, with freezing fingers, slowly navigates through his contact list to Zayn.

The phone rings three times before Zayn answers, voice thick with sleep. "Liam? It's half five in the morning on my day off."

"Think my power's out," Liam says. He can practically hear his teeth chattering as he speaks. This is _so_ going in the con column. "I've got no heat."

Zayn is quiet for a long moment. Liam is just starting to worry that he's gone back to sleep when he says, "Go downstairs and use the fireplace."

"It's locked?" Liam says, because a fire sounds nice but he doesn't want to get out of bed and go outside in that snow unless he knows for sure he'll be able to get to the fireplace.

"Don't tell my boss I told you this," Zayn says, after another beat. "You know the employee entrance? About ten steps away from the stairs to your flat?"

"The one I was told very plainly to refrain from blocking at any time?"

"Yeah, the one with the coded entry," Zayn says. "I'll give you the passcode if you keep quiet about it."

"Zayn," Liam says, patiently as he can (which is to say, a little hysterically, because now that he's noticed that his power is out and there's a veritable _blizzard_ outside, he's feeling colder by the second). "Will it work when there's no power?"

Zayn is quiet for a long time. "Dunno," he says, finally. "Don't know how those things work, if I'm honest."

"Thanks anyway," Liam says. "I'm going to go burrow under my covers now and hope for the best."

Zayn texts him the passcode anyway, though, and by six, Liam is desperate enough for light and warmth to try it. He pulls on the thermals his sister had bought him for his last birthday that he'd thought he'd never wear, and then a pair of sweatpants, and then another just to be on the safe side. Two pairs of thick woollen socks, two long-sleeved shirts, and a hoodie later, he's forcing his winter boots on and wrapping his legs in trash bags, to keep the snow off of them as much as possible, scrounging around for his warmest hat and gloves, and shoving his scarf on under his thickest winter coat. He feels rather like a marshmallow when he's done, but at least he's mostly warm. 

When Liam opens the door to his flat, snow starts swirling in quickly, so he hustles out as fast as he can and slams the door behind him, locking it carefully and putting his keys in the front pocket of his coat. He grips on tight to the handrail as he minces down the stairs outside of his flat. Outside feels almost warmer than inside, but he knows that's just because he's up and bundled and moving. The flakes of snow hitting his face are cold and gross, for all that they're beautiful to look at.

He's halfway from the bottom of his stairs to the door Zayn had mentioned when he trips over what looks like a moving pile of snow. He just barely manages to keep from falling flat into the snow piled up against the outside wall of Dino's by flinging his arms out and catching himself on the rough brick exterior. 

The pile of snow barks.

"Fuck," Liam breathes, and without even thinking about it, he scoops the dog up in his arms and stumbles the rest of the way to the door. He's pressing the passcode Zayn gave him in with sharp jabs of his fingers, to no avail, when the door swings open almost on its own accord.

Liam blinks, confused, into the dark of the Dino's back room until his eyes adjust and he sees Louis standing there, wrapped in a thick pilly cabled jumper, arms crossed over his front for warmth. Dumbly, he says, "Louis?"

" _Liam_?" Louis says, incredulously. The dog barks again, and Louis's expression changes. He stands back, pressing the door open wider with one arm. "Come on then, get out of that snow. Bring the dog."

"Cheers," Liam says, pushing inside and stamping the snow off his feet just inside the door and then stepping out of the way so that Louis can push it shut.

"I've started a fire in the fireplace," Louis says. "Since the power is out. Which I'm guessing you noticed."

"Yeah," Liam says. "Zayn said I could break in here to warm up – what are you doing here, though?"

Louis looks embarrassed. "I closed last night," he said. "And I was supposed to open today and I didn't fancy traveling all the way home in the snow, so I kind of, um. Slept on one of the couches."

"You should've come upstairs, I have room," Liam says, immediately, before remembering that he and Louis aren't actually best mates. They just have a lot of friends in common.

"Didn't know how that might go over," Louis says, after looking at Liam for a long moment, pushing the door between the staff room and the store open. "Here, the fire isn't terribly big but at least it's warm."

"Thank god," Liam says, going to perch on the raised hearth, setting the dog his lap, then pulling off his gloves and holding his hands as close to the flame as he dares. The dog barks and stands up, so he moves his hands and tangles his fingers in the dog's fur, scratching idly, trying to warm the both of them up.

Louis sits down next to him, knees brushing against Liam's as he leans in towards the fire. "I would have made it bigger," he says. "But we were due for another wood delivery on Wednesday and I didn't want to run out in case the power doesn't come back soon."

"This is fine," Liam says, because he's finally starting to feel warm. His back is still cold, but it's so much better here than it was upstairs. He smiles at Louis, tentatively.

Louis grins back. "So is this your dog?" he asks, peering down at it. "I didn't think the owner of the building much liked dogs. Or let them live here."

"No, I found him – her? It? – outside," Liam says. "Just outside the door, really."

Louis's grin softens a little in a way that makes Liam's heart flutter. Which, great. All he needs now is for his nebulous attraction to this guy, this acquaintance of his (this _gorgeous_ acquaintance of his) to solidify into a crush. Really. 

Not.

"She's a cutie," Louis says, reaching forward to scratch her behind the ears. "I'm assuming she's a she."

"I haven't checked," Liam admit, so Louis makes a big show of easing the pup out of Liam's lap and lifting it up to check. It's a difficult few moments, the way that Louis's little fingers dig into Liam's thigh while he tries to get his grip on the wriggly dog and Liam's brain almost shorts out, but then Louis is lifting the dog up over his head and peering up and then peering at Liam through his fringe.

"I don't actually know anything about canine anatomy," says Louis, his mouth twisted into a bit of a self-conscious smirk as he lowers her back down and tries to put her back on Liam's lap. "But I don't see any dangly bits so I’m guessing she's a she."

"She seems to like you, knowledge of dog bits aside," Liam points out, because the dog is standing up on his lap and pressing her little nose against Louis's hand, like she doesn't want him to let go."

"Pets and children love me," Louis says, solemnly. "Unfortunately they're just about the only people who do."

Liam gives Louis a scrutinising look, because he can't tell whether Louis is actually being serious or not. It's so inaccurate, though, so just in case Louis thinks that it is, he blurts, "That's so not true." When Louis looks at him, something like shock on his face, Liam blushes. "It certainly doesn’t look that way, anyway."

"Cheers," Louis says, after looking at Liam for another long moment. And then there's this long moment of awkward silence, because Louis is still looking at him speculatively and Liam feels too embarrassed to say anything else. "You're sweet," Louis says, eventually, and Liam can't be sure, because it's pretty dark in the coffeeshop, apart from the glow from the fire, but he fancies that Louis's cheeks are a bit pink, too.

+++

By seven, he and Louis have dragged all the armchairs and couches into a semicircle around the fireplace to pen the puppy in, and are lying down on their sides, scratching her in turns (and sometimes their fingers bump into each other, which Liam tries not to focus on, because his crush – which he is willing to admit he probably has – is developing and getting stronger by the minute the longer he and Louis just chat) and talking about everything and nothing. The store, Liam supposes, is technically open, but outside is so thick with snow he can't fathom anyone coming in. Louis hasn't even gone to unlock the front doors yet. Which is probably good; Liam doesn't want to let all the cold come rushing in and mess up the way that the fire is finally making the room warm up further away than just the hearth.

Louis has just finished a really cute story about his sisters ("I have four little sisters, Liam. _Four_. Do you have any idea how much I know about the best eyeliners for a proper smoky eye?") when Liam's stomach, embarrassingly, growls. Loudly.

Louis doesn't look fazed, though. "Are you hungry?" he asks, pushing himself up on one elbow. Liam tries not to stare at the line of Louis's side – the slump of his arm, the dip of his waist, the curve of his hip and his thigh – and fails. "We probably have food in the back even though we obviously haven't got our pastry delivery today."

"Yeah, all right," Liam says, because he _is_ hungry, when it comes down to it.

Louis pushes himself up the rest of the way and waves off Liam's offers to help. He climbs over the back of one of the couches surrounding them and the puppy and heads behind the counter. Liam can't help but grin at the way that Louis is totally humming a Cher Lloyd song as he rummages around the shelves. 

He returns, balancing a tray laden with two mugs and a plate piled high with sandwiches, and places it carefully on the couch cushions before climbing back over. "This is what I found," he says, moving the tray over to the hearth, placing the mugs right in front of the fire. "Cheese sandwiches and tea. I'm, uh, hoping that the fire warms that up enough."

"Fantastic," Liam says, pushing himself up into a more seated position and grabbing a sandwich. It's nothing like the kind of breakfast he usually eats, but he's hungry and it's food. It tastes good, too, he discovers, after taking a bite. Louis has spread some kind of spicy sauce on the bread, and there's some kind of crisp, almost peppery lettuce or herb that keeps it from being too heavy for breakfast. He eats two of them.

Eventually, Louis leans over to inspect the mugs of tea. He touches the water in one quickly with a finger and makes a face – "Lukewarm," he explains, but shrugs. "I expect it won't get much better, though, given the way I'm heating it." He goes to grab the handle of the mug, and even manages to start to lift it up before he curses and drops the entire thing.

It lands awkwardly, on the edge of its base, and starts to tip over completely. Water, barely stained with the contents of the tea bag, comes flooding out across the hearth stones into the ash under the fire. The inside of the top edge just barely snags against the grate holding all the firewood and, spectacularly, the mug cracks and breaks, the rest of the liquid and the tea bag falling out as it does so. 

"What even-" Liam starts, frowning at the mug, which is now in pieces on the hearth. Talk about hitting a pressure point.

"It was hot," Louis says, sounding completely dumbfounded, which – yeah, it makes sense. Liam looks up from the pieces of the mug and the way the tea that didn't flood the ash under the fire is already soaking into the hot dry brick of the ledge just in front of the hearth. Louis's face is a spectacle – his eyebrows are simultaneously furrowed and lifted, a tight little peak at the inside corner of each forming instead of the usual perfect arch (and Liam takes a moment to mentally chastise himself for being so familiar with the way Louis's eyebrows move), and his mouth is open, slack, like he's literally at a loss for words.

Liam can't help it. He starts laughing, this deep belly laugh at the look on Louis's face and the sheer randomness of the way the mug broke and also a little bit at the ridiculousness of the situation – the snow so deep that it took out the power of probably the entire area, and still coming down thickly outside, the dog he found in the alley, the way he's shut in with _Louis bloody Tomlinson_ , one of the prettiest, most intriguing men he's ever met during what is probably the worst snow storm Britain has seen in years and years. He knows that he's at the stage of laughing where his face collapses into crinkles, and he's always been a bit self-conscious about laughing that hard, but he can't stop, because Louis's face is morphing into an even more incredulous expression and the dog is yipping out these tiny little barks and pushing her head against Liam's leg and he just _can't stop laughing._

Louis starts to grin, slow and sweet and almost a little proud. Liam would go so far as to call it borderline _fond_ , but it can't be, can it?

Louis seems to shake himself out of whatever thought is making him smile like that at roughly the same time that Liam manages to calm himself down a bit and stop laughing so hard. "Didn't realize it was that funny," he says, and Liam feels his face heat up.

"It's just the situation, I suppose," he says, glancing away for a moment and then looking boldly back at Louis. "What do you make of this snow?"

"Might get in the way of my Christmas plans," Louis says. "Was planning on going back to Doncaster for the holiday, celebrate my birthday properly with family and all that."

"Your birthday?" 

"The twenty-fourth," Louis says, smiling again, faintly this time, at the way Liam raises his eyebrows with the question.

"Happy early birthday," Liam says. "You'll be-"

"Older than I care to admit," Louis interrupts. "I'm a year older than Zayn; I assume you and him are the same age?"

"Close enough," says Liam, shrugging as he does the mental math. "That’s not terribly old, Louis."

"It's not terribly young," Louis says – ridiculously, Liam thinks, because twenty-three is not old by _any_ stretch of the imagination.

"You've still got a couple of months before you go grey, in any case," he says, finally, adopting a serious tone. He squints at Louis. "Can't say much about the wrinkles, though. Those are irreversible."

"Hey," Louis protests, shoving at Liam like they've known each other for years. It's nice. "Are you quite finished?"

"Suppose I can be," Liam says, going for the remaining mug of tea. Louis is right, the handle is really hot, so he pulls his sleeve over his hand before dragging the mug closer to him and taking an exaggerated sip. "Decent tea," he tells Louis, hiding a smile. "Bit weak though."

"Oh, shove off, Liam Payne," Louis says, but he's smiling again, and Liam is so, so captivated by the way his eyes squint when he smiles big.

Liam takes another sip and then passes the mug over to Louis. It's really not that good, he thinks, uncharitably, and then hastens to remind himself, _at least it's something_. "Here," he says. "Since you dropped yours."

"It was _hot_ ," Louis says again, and the way his lower lip juts out petulantly sets Liam off again with the laughing. He's so glad to have this opportunity to get to know Louis better, to talk to him at length. Even if it isn't in the best of circumstances, it's nice. And funny.

Louis is giving him another curious look. "What?" asks Liam, through his laughter.

"You and Zayn," Louis says. "You're really just best mates?"

"Never been anything else," Liam says, his laughter dying immediately. "That's why dating him didn't work out as well as we'd hoped."

"He keeps saying," Louis says, looking down at the dog and threading his fingers through her fur, tangling them a bit. He doesn't look up. "He keeps saying that there's nothing residual there."

"There isn't," Liam says, seriously, and then, with a sinking feeling – "But he's really in love with Pezza, Louis."

Louis's eyes flash up to Liam's face, quickly, before dropping back down to the dog. "So you do mind."

"I – no," Liam says, confused. That isn't what he was getting at, at _all_. "I just – you shouldn't get your hopes up, I think they're in it for the long haul."

Again, Louis looks up quick, staring at Liam, his eyes wide with shock for what feels like a full five minutes but which is probably a lot shorter in actuality, before he starts laughing, his face collapsing into this little mess of mirth that is just so, so appealing – and Liam breaks off this train of thought before it can get even more complicated. "Liam," he says, finally. "I don't fancy Zayn."

"Well," Liam says. "Good." He's quiet for a moment, then decides it's important to stress, once again, "Me neither."

"Good," Louis murmurs. He's calming down now, giving Liam that look again, the puzzling, almost-fond one he's been shooting Liam's way for weeks now, his laugh now transforming into a smile that tugs at his lips, almost like he can't help it. 

Liam realises with a start that he's been staring at Louis for longer than is strictly acceptable. He jerks his gaze away, face heating as he does so, and distracts himself by reaching forward to pet the dog, who lifts her head and stares at him for a long moment before settling back down for a nap.

"She's got the right idea of it," Liam says, because his early start is catching up to him and he's beginning to feel a bit tired.

"She does," Louis agrees. "I'm starting to fancy a bit of a nap, myself."

Liam is, too, so they stock the fire up and each take a couch and stretch out to catch a bit more rest. Liam tosses and turns, though. He's buzzing too high to be able to fall properly asleep, and it's not until the dog starts barking and he opens his eyes, half-sitting up to see light flooding in through the front windows that he realises he's gotten any rest at all.

Louis is already sitting up. "The snow's finally stopped," he says, staring out the window. "It's bloody deep, though."

Something twists deep inside Liam. Not disappointment, surely, at the prospect of the snow melting. That would be _ridiculous_.

In order to reiterate to himself that it is, in fact, totally ridiculous, he says, "Maybe it will clear up enough for you to get home for your birthday and Christmas."

"Maybe," Louis says, still staring off into the distance. He shakes himself and looks straight at Liam. "What were your Christmas plans?"

Liam smiles. "My parents were going to come down to spend it with me," he says. "One of my sisters has gone to Spain with her boyfriend for the holidays so they were going to swing by on their way to meet her for New Year's Eve. Hope they still can." 

"I hope we get power back," Louis says, staring out the window again and shivering slightly.

"It has got a bit colder in here, hasn't it?" says Liam, noticing the way that even though there's a cold sun beating in through the windows and the fire is still burning bright, the warmth is dissipating quickly and altogether unpleasantly throughout the room, leaving a bit of a chill that he can feel on his throat with each inhale. His cheeks are colder than they have any right to be after napping in front of a roaring fire with so many clothes on, too, and the tips of his fingers are freezing. He shoves his hands into his pockets for warmth. "And you've been here since last night."

"Yeah, well," Louis says, grinning self-deprecatingly. "There are worse places to spend the night."

Liam isn't entirely sure what Louis means by that, but a mental image of Louis spending the night in a hay stack in a cow barn crosses his mind immediately and he laughs a little bit. Louis looks surprised, but pleasantly so. "I hope this isn't too abrupt," he tells Liam, after a beat. "But you have the best laugh."

"I – thank you?" Liam says, still smiling wide, because that's always a nice thing to hear.

"Makes me want to keep you laughing," Louis says, carefully casual, like he wants Liam to think he's being a lot more flippant than he actually is. Suddenly, Liam thinks that he can understand Louis a little bit better. He might just be projecting, of course, but he's certainly familiar with the feeling he's pretty sure that Louis is experiencing right now. He's spent a lot of his life feeling so overwhelmingly passionate about things that he has to pretend he only cares about a normal amount, so as to minimise the degree to which he could be targeted for feeling everything so deeply, and just. Maybe he's off base now, but he doesn't think he is.

The little crush he's felt building up on Louis over the past few weeks, the crush that's been intensifying over the course of the morning, shifts into something deeper at that moment. Ridiculously, he has a moment of wanting nothing more than his laptop so that he can update The Enigma That Is Louis Tomlinson.doc _immediately_ with ' _secretly deeply caring???_ '

He feels almost queasy with the discovery. Tongue stumbling over the words, he blurts, "I expect you'd be rather good at that."

Something sparks in Louis's eyes, and Liam's stomach twists again at the thought that maybe someday he'll be able to read Louis's expressions and moods as well as he'd like to. Maybe. Hopefully. Someday. "Well. That's good."

"I think so," Liam says, trying desperately not to lose track of the thread of their conversation. Deliberately, slowly, he pushes himself up into a standing position and takes the three steps across the floor to the couch Louis is sat on and sits down next to him, on the side that doesn't have a sleeping puppy curled up against his (luscious) thigh. He bites the inside of his lip, flicks his tongue out to wet them. "It's always nice to know someone good at making me laugh, I can get a bit serious."

"You do seem the type," Louis says, lightly. "You know, when you're working on stuff on your laptop with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth and all that."

Liam feels dizzy, giddy with all this information he's getting. "Louis," he says, slowly. "You haven't been watching me work."

"What if I have?" asks Louis, his voice rasping as he speaks. He's turned to look Liam full on, torso twisting almost awkwardly as he stares Liam in the eye. 

Since Louis is determinedly not looking away, Liam forces himself to keep the gaze. "Then I suppose I've just been missing you," he admits, quietly. "In between watching you work right back."

Not looking away was a good plan, because he can see Louis's eyes widen, almost imperceptibly. "Liam," he says, just as quietly. "You don't suppose Zayn-"

But Liam isn't about to entertain this question again. Taking a chance, and moving slowly enough that Louis can push him away if he wants to, he leans in, cupping a hand behind Louis's neck as he tilts his head and, letting his eyes fall closed, brushes his lips against Louis's in a brief, firm kiss.

He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes and watching Louis with trepidation. Louis's lips are parted and his eyelashes are fluttering against his cheek as he slowly opens his eyes. His hands, previously frozen, held out at each side with the palms splayed, move suddenly until one is on Liam's hip and one is on his thigh. There's a bit of pressure as Louis leans forward again, and a puff of warmth against Liam's lips as Louis exhales sharply, and then he's pressing in for another kiss, so slow and sweet it makes Liam's free hand tremble enough that he has to bring it to the dip of Louis's waist just so he has somewhere to put it.

"Liam," Louis whispers, reverently, resting his forehead against Liam's for a moment, breath ghosting out against Liam's face again.

"Louis," Liam returns, evenly, before tilting his face back in to Louis so that he can kiss Louis again and again, and then they're lost to the heady slide of mouths and tongues and the rush of fingers digging into sides.

"Well," Louis says, eventually, when he's half-on Liam's lap, fingers tangled firmly in Liam's shirt, taking a breather because the dog started trying to nudge her way between the two of them. "This is certainly another way of keeping warm."

And Liam laughs and laughs until he's breathless, and Louis kisses him again, which doesn't much help with catching his breath at _all_.

+++

Some time later – Liam isn't sure how long, but it could be anywhere from minutes to hours – they're startled apart when the door bangs wide open and a swirl of cold and snow flies in.

Liam looks up. Zayn is standing, crusted all over by snow. He's staring at the two of them in shock, and, well. Liam supposes they're quite the sight, lips bruised and raw from kissing. "Hi," he says, weakly, fingers tightening around Louis's waist.

"You weren't answering your mobile," Zayn says, blinking at the two of them. "Wanted to make sure you found your way down all right."

"Oh," Liam says, dumbly. "I must have left it upstairs." 

Louis makes as if to scramble off of Liam's lap, but he isn't having any of that, so he moves his hands, wrapping them around Louis's thighs. Zayn laughs. "I guess I don't need to enlist Perrie's help in finding some way to get you two idiots together after all."

"I – what?" Liam asks, just as Louis whips his head around to stare at Zayn.

"Seriously?" Louis says.

"Hold on," says Zayn, holding up a finger and taking his phone out and tapping out a text. When he's done, he looks up. "Anyway, the blizzard's over and people are starting to clear the roads. The news said to expect power back here by tomorrow."

"Good," Liam murmurs, dazedly wondering if it's too early to ask Louis to stay with him for another night. For warmth, of course. He hopes it isn't. It will be a very nice pro to add to his list, perhaps nice enough to tip the scales entirely.

Zayn's phone buzzes and he glances at it. "You're going to double date with me and Perrie when everything's cleared off," he tells them, walking further into the room and pushing the door shut. "Nice fire, by the way."

It isn't until he's sitting down and tilting his head back, eyes closed, that Liam remembers that the dog will be new to him. He almost calls out a warning when he sees her trot over to Zayn's feet and start sniffing around his boots, but Louis smirks and holds a hand to Liam's mouth. "Wait for it," he whispers. "I hope she's a biter."

Liam laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked the gift, bb! 
> 
>  
> 
> [title credit xx](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/brighteyes/patienthopeinnewsnow.html)
> 
> [lj](http://el_em_en_oh_pee.livejournal.com) | [tumblr](http://dulosis.tumblr.com)


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